


Lovely

by jenojaemin



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: ? I guess, Coming of Age, Drunken Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Jeno is straight, M/M, Neighbors, Pining, Rich Boy!Jeno, Young Professional!Jaemin, ha, kind of, neighbors to lovers, past renmin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:08:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29041386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenojaemin/pseuds/jenojaemin
Summary: “Oh, shut up.” Jaemin blurts, his own cheeks flushing red, perhaps even hotter than Jeno’s, which hurt with how hard he’s smiling. He stands from where they were slumped together on the sofa, the television muted during a commercial break and their show forgotten when it came back on in favour of their conversation. It happened quite often, but Jeno would prefer to talk to Jaemin over watching television any day. Jaemin snorts, and flicks the back of Jeno’s head as he walks away. “You ruined the moment, you weirdo.”
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 93





	Lovely

**Author's Note:**

> hihi~ I’m back - and in the same month, too! Crazy I know. 
> 
> Per usual this didn’t really turn out how I hoped, and some themes are left unresolved, again, per usual. I’m not great at polishing up my works to where I want them to be once I’ve finished writing them, so sorry if it seems a bit unfinished. I like it though, and I’m really in love with Jeno’s obliviousness to his own feelings. It’s cute. 
> 
> Enjoy, and please let me know if you did ^^

Jeno never got along all that well with his neighbours. Not that he hated them or anything, or vice versa, but having been a shy kid from a very young age he did his best to avoid unnecessary social interactions, and every conversation he did have with the people who lived in his apartment complex was spent trying to wiggle his way out of. On top of that, though, he resented them for how well they got on with his mother, regardless of how good of a person they were. 

It’s not as if Jeno hated his mom - he loved her just as much as any child should love their mother, but she had a bit of a grating personality, or perhaps an outgoing one that just didn’t mesh all that well with Jeno’s introverted self. He didn’t blame her for that, though. Raising an introvert when you’re the kind of person who thrives in social settings couldn’t be easy, and Jeno felt as though she never quite understood him because of that. One example of this was her insistence on Jeno making friends - on meeting new people - when he had told her countless times he was fine being alone; he preferred being alone. She didn’t seem to understand it, but again, Jeno didn’t blame her. 

Because of his mother’s pressure put on him to get out there and meet new people, Jeno often did talk to those neighbours he never got on with. Or, moreso, sat playing solitaire while she caught up with them over tea. It didn’t help that they were all adults - and even if Jeno was too, legally, he didn’t really feel like it. He wasn’t sure he ever would, and always felt out of place during these conversations. 

What solidifies this worry is the new neighbour two doors down from them that his mother insisted he go introduce himself to, ecstatic that, for once, someone Jeno’s age had moved into the building full of mainly middle aged aristocrats. Having shown up at the strangers door, already frustrated with being forced to make nice with a new tenant, he became nearly enraged when he actually met the guy. 

It was confusing, really. Because, although he had a young face, his wardrobe and (albeit unfinished) apartment decor suited that of a sophisticated businessman. He had countless bookshelves that movers were stacking full of terribly boring looking novels, and art as bland as his beige walls. Jeno figured, perhaps the boy his mother had mentioned was this man's son, but while he didn’t seem to be in his early 20’s like Jeno, he certainly didn’t look old enough to have a kid who was.

He was nice enough, though. His name was Jaemin and he offered Jeno some diet soda, being the only thing in his fridge, apologizing for his coffee maker still being in boxes. Jeno wonders why his mom didn’t make him go once the guy was actually settled in, feeling a bit like he was being an inconvenience, sat at his kitchen table whilst movers grunted behind them carrying more boxes of more books. 

“What do you do?” Jeno asks when a silence drops between the two of them. They had been talking about god knows what. The weather, the news - there was a bridge under construction down the road that woke Jeno up early, Jaemin said he hated it too because it would make him him have to take a detour to work, and he wasn’t looking forward to that at all. Jeno figured that maybe the question would be a bit rude having only known this guy for approximately twenty minutes, but his brain was rotting from boredom, and he didn’t quite care about his impression on him at this point. 

“I’m a security analyst.” Jaemin answers, taking another sip of his soda. Jeno only stares, knowing only vaguely what that meant, and his new neighbour smiles, giving him a bit of an embarrassed laugh. He had a great smile, Jaemin. “It’s boring, don’t worry.”

Jeno snorts back, a bit dry. “I’m a pretty boring person, try me.”

Sitting back in his chair Jaemin props his foot up on his knee, and smiles playfully. “Well, technically, it’s classified information.” He says, grinning like he knows it would pique Jeno’s interest. 

“Yeah right.” Jeno snorts again. 

“I’m serious!” Jaemin laughs, his words unconvincing. Either he’s lying, which Jeno is sure of, or he’s some kind of undercover spy, playing the role of being boring extremely well. Though, Jeno thinks for a moment, if he was suppose to be inconspicuous, they probably wouldn’t use someone this handsome and charming. 

Jeno scoffs. “No way you’re that interesting.” 

Jaemin feigns offence before swatting his hand. “You’re right.” He says. “It’s classified because it’s government work, but it’s still boring.” He explains. “I spend most of my days installing Norton antivirus on old men’s computers while listening to them try to tell me they didn’t know the site they were on was for porn.”

“Well that sounds a bit more interesting.”

“It’s not.” Jaemin deadpans, and Jeno laughs. 

When Jeno is about to leave he's filled with such an odd feeling he can’t quite place, only realizing once he’s back at his own apartment that it’s something positive - that he enjoyed meeting Jaemin. “Come over tomorrow and I’ll get you that cup of coffee, alright? That is if I can figure out how to work that damn machine.” He added before Jeno was gone, peeking from behind his door and rolling his eyes at himself. Jeno agrees, and feels good about it. He doesn’t often feel this happy after meeting someone new. 

Of course, the damper on his new, possible friendship comes with his mom’s goofy, beaming smile the second she finds him, forcing him to reiterate their interaction. He thinks to ask if she was mistaken about Jaemin’s age, but finds himself biting his tongue, fearing she may want to befriend the man more if she knew he wasn’t some 20 year old kid. And, for some reason, Jeno wants Jaemin all to himself. 

Jaemin’s wearing more regular looking clothes when Jeno heeds his words the next afternoon, though he still looks all too sophisticated to be the same age as Jeno. He’s not sure how Jaemin can make a sweater and jeans look classy, but he does, smiling warm and handsome when he opens the door for the neighbour. 

Surprisingly a lot of Jaemin’s things are unpacked already. There had been countless boxes the day before, most left by the movers for Jaemin to sort through on his own. Watching as Jaemin fiddles with the aforementioned coffee maker, he counts three yawns, and figures he must have stayed up pretty late unpacking everything he could manage. He seemed like the type to be very particular, perhaps even anal retentive, and didn’t enjoy clutter. Seeming as though he had coasters out to force Jeno to use the day before whilst not even having a light fixture in his kitchen, he figured that’s definitely the case. 

The coffee isn’t all that good, but Jeno denies it when Jaemin apologizes for how weak it is. He didn’t really come over for the coffee, anyways. 

“Can I ask you something?” Jeno finds himself saying in a moment of confidence, swallowing immediately after with regret. Jaemin nods his chin towards him in agreement as he sips his coffee, wincing at the flavour. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.” He states. “Birthdays in a few weeks though, why?”

“Oh.” Jeno gapes a bit, trying to comprehend how that could be possible - that he was actually older than Jaemin. “Really?”

Jaemin chuckles into his coffee mug. “Yeah?”

“Damn…” He mumbles. “You seem so grown up though…”

Jaemin barks out a laugh this time, amused by the statement. “Trust me, I’m the biggest mess you’ll ever meet.” 

Jeno has no idea how that could be possible, but figures he’d keep the conversation moving, feeling uneasy about the whole situation. 

Because Jaemin is put together, whether he thinks so or not. He’s got his own place, a great job. He wears suits to work and actually has decor in his home, compared to Jeno’s friends his age who still worked in supermarkets and use paper plates as if they’re fine China. Jaemin’s existence is a bit intimidating, and the next time Jeno meets him, he’s filled with the same sense of guilt, hearing him ramble on about work like a real grown adult, when Jeno’s mom still does his laundry. 

Before meeting Jaemin, Jeno wasn’t ignorant to his privilege or his immaturity, but rather he just was unbothered by it. He knew his family’s income was what coddled him - and the literal coddling of his mother alongside that didn’t help. The thing is, Jeno never had a desire to escape that part of his life. 

Growing up in an affluent neighborhood meant Jeno’s friends, from a young age, were rich, and even to an extent spoiled. However, when most of his peers reached a certain point in their adolescence they all unanimously but independently decided to break away from their luxurious lifestyles, like it was the natural course of things when you were born rich. But Jeno didn’t understand it. It didn’t make sense to him why these kids would abandon their wealth for a false sense of freedom, knowing full well the second they needed it they had their parents to fall back on. Jeno didn’t see how that could be fulfilling in the slightest, and didn’t understand why anyone would voluntarily suffer when they had all the resources in the world to avoid being in those situations. 

These feelings Jeno had begun experiencing because of his new neighbour didn’t change his opinion on the matter, however. He still found it quite shallow and almost offensive for a rich kid to abandon their wealth to live amongst the ‘commoners’, just to feel better about who they were as a person. Jeno would never get on board with that, but he still wishes he wasn’t so sheltered because of his background. And he feels guilty for wishing that, especially when Jaemin tells him more about his own life. 

Perhaps he’s envious. Because Jaemin has a life story. He came from little to nothing and worked his ass off to get where he was. He had passion and perseverance. He had two jobs while going to school to help support his family. He studied for hours and lost sleep and personal milestones to ensure his future was secured. But even despite working for everything he had in life, Jaemin still said he felt undeserving. “Honestly, I don’t know how I got so lucky.” He says, and Jeno feels guilty for ever complaining about his life. 

It felt wrong to desire more friction, hearing everything Jaemin had gone through and how none of it was easy in the slightest. Jeno just wishes he was at least interesting, because he could listen to Jaemin talk for hours. 

They’re a lot alike, Jaemin and him, even despite all the things about him that perplexed the elder. But when it came to personality - to morals and beliefs, they agreed on most of everything, and when they didn’t, it was just as wonderful. It’s rare to find someone you can have a mature debate with, whilst still being respectful and adult about it. One of these debates gets a little more heated, however, and begins when Jeno asks what his new friend would like for his 23rd birthday, and bouncing back and forth about their thoughts on material possessions and milestones. 

After countless attempts to shake off Jeno’s question and change the subject, Jaemin finally puts his foot down. “I really don’t want anything, Jeno. Please stop asking.”

Taken aback slightly, Jeno sits up a bit. “Oh. I - I’m sorry. I didn’t think you were serious - I didn’t mean to offend you…” He says, trying his best not to sound like a wounded puppy, because that’s a bit like how he felt, even if he knew it was unjustified. 

Thankfully, Jaemin’s pretty smile comes, followed by a laugh and a light slap on his shoulder. “Calm down. I’m not mad, Jen.” He chuckles. “I just don’t need anything, really. Just having you in my life is enough, ya’know?”

“Oh.” Jeno says again, but feeling a flush of pink spread across his cheeks this time. “That’s really cute.” He adds with a smile he can’t quite hold back. “You‘re really cute.” He doesn’t really know who he is right now, because normally Jeno wouldn’t feel this flattered by a statement like that. Normally, Jeno wouldn’t say something like that to anyone, no matter how close they were. But, he thinks, Jaemin’s not really normal anyways. And he’s glad about that. 

“Oh, shut up.” Jaemin blurts, his own cheeks flushing red, perhaps even hotter than Jeno’s, which hurt with how hard he’s smiling. He stands from where they were slumped together on the sofa, the television muted during a commercial break and their show forgotten when it came back on in favour of their conversation. It happened quite often, but Jeno would prefer to talk to Jaemin over watching television any day. Jaemin snorts, and flicks the back of Jeno’s head as he walks away. “You ruined the moment, you weirdo.” 

When Jaemin’s birthday does come, Jeno doesn’t heed his words, regardless of how genuine they were. He figured that, though Jaemin didn’t expect or even want a gift, he probably wouldn’t be mad to receive one. Besides, he still can’t seem to get his coffee maker to work without frustration and second degree burns, so the ease of use of the French press he buys is a plus. 

Despite knowing the younger for a few months at this point, Jeno had only caught glimpses of his friends - sometimes dropping him off after work when he decided to carpool or occasionally just hearing their voices over the phone. So it’s a bit odd when Jaemin invites him over the night of his birthday, and his place is crowded with faces Jeno doesn’t recognize. He probably wouldn’t have come if he knew it was going to be this busy, but Jaemin beams at him when he finds him, abandoning his conversation to bounce over to him, arms tight around his shoulders the second they meet. He was a touchy person to begin with, but clearly - especially judging by the bottles of beer and red solo cups grasped in his friends hands - Jaemin was already a little drunk. 

Jeno tries his best to catch up with the rest of the group as Jaemin parades him around the party as if he wasn’t as much of an introvert as the elder - or even moreso. He doesn’t hate it, though. His stomach is filled with anxiety and his hands are shaky and sweaty, but the words Jaemin says - his introductions of Jeno as his best friend, the smartest guy he knows; _“Feel his bicep - I swear this dude could be a boxer.”_ \- it all feels nice. Jaemin was honest when he said all he needed for his birthday was Jeno, because he seems so happy to just be around him all night. 

They do part eventually, on occasion when Jaemin gets another drink or uses the washroom because of getting too many drinks. Jeno does his best to lay low - just listen to whatever conversation he’s left in and hopes his drunken brain can manage to laugh at the appropriate times. 

Nearing the end of the night, however, he meets someone Jaemin hadn’t introduced him to yet, and finds the courage to ask him who he could be after downing the last of his beer. 

“I’m only here because Chenle needed a ride.” He says, a little unamused by the whole party, it seems. “I gave up an hour in and figured I’d just pay for his cab fare. No way I’m staying sober tonight.” He holds his hand out for Jeno. “Renjun, though.” 

“Oh.” Jeno comments, a bit lost trying to remember which one Chenle was. He knew he was one of the loud ones - Donghyuck or Chenle _“Don’t rile them up, they’re impossible to shut up once they get going.”_ \- over by the kitchen island. “Why didn’t Jaemin introduce us?”

Renjun snorts into his cup. “He doesn’t like that I’m here, probably.” He says, wincing at the taste of alcohol. “He never mentioned me?”

Jeno shakes his head, perplexed as to why someone Jaemin didn’t like would be at his birthday party - especially when Renjun himself didn’t seem to want to be there all that much. 

“Weird.” Renjun huffs. “I guess he really is over me. Can’t blame him, you’re not too bad looking. He probably thinks he traded up.” He laughs. “No offence.”

Jeno’s confused, his brow furrowed as he looks down at where the shorter man is slumped against the hallway wall. Before Jeno can question any of what Renjun had said he hears his name called over the small crowd of people, and sees Jaemin’s messy hair bouncing as he speeds though the party. “There you are, I thought you left, silly.” Jaemin laughs, draping an arm over Jeno’s shoulder before he realizes the person he was speaking with, his smile dropping instantly along with his arm. “Oh - I guess you two have met?”

Renjun barks out a laugh. “Please, Jaem. I’m not gonna kill him. Don’t look so scared.” He says, seeming more genuine than Jeno would’ve expected from the glum person he met a few moments ago. “It’s been what? Four? Five months? I’ve moved on - it’s fine. I’m just glad you’ve found someone. I kinda hate seeing you all depressed, even if I still don’t like you that much.” Renjun laughs, clearly joking but with an ounce of resentment clinging to his words. 

“Oh - no no. We’re not. Jeno’s just - he’s not.” Jaemin sputters, looking more panicked than Jeno had ever seen him. Before Jaemin can finish his fragmented explanation, it clicks in Jeno’s head. 

“Oh my god - do you think I’m his boyfriend?” Jeno spits, not thinking for a second how his light tone and laughter could be misinterpreted. Jaemin’s face is stunned, staring at Jeno with flushed cheeks as he continues to stuff his feet in his mouth. “I’m not gay!” He laughs. 

For a quick moment it’s silent save for Jeno’s quickly dwindling chuckles. He wants to crawl into a hole and die with the embarrassed and nearly hurt look plastered on Jaemin’s face. Renjun breaks the tension when he speaks again, facing Jaemin this time. “So… You’re still single then?” 

Jaemin’s gone before Jeno can even turn his head to see his reaction. 

Jeno’s left alone for most of the rest of the night, already late when things took a turn for the worst. He’s not sure if he can’t find Jaemin because he’s avoiding him, or if he’s just not looking for him hard enough - because he’s not sure he really wants to find him. 

It sobered him up, that interaction. Everything was so casual and lighthearted the entire night that to have things change so suddenly was like an electric shock, waking Jeno from his drunken daze. And even though it wasn’t his words that upset Jaemin, he still feels guilty. 

It’s not like he didn’t know - or suspect, at least. Really, Jeno never really thought about Jaemin’s love life, but looking back on things he can’t say he ever imagined him with a woman when they did mention anything about love or romance. He imagined much worse. When Jaemin talked about the things he liked - sentimental and starry eyed and blushing when Jeno made fun of him for liking things suited for a chick flick - Jeno thought of him in those instances not with a woman, or a man - but with himself. 

That’s perhaps why Jeno doesn’t make a real effort to find Jaemin that night after he runs off, scared of the things he’s realizing when he’s left alone with his thoughts, Renjun gone the second Jaemin was. He’s drunk and confused and guilty and he doesn’t know for sure, but he thinks, maybe, a little in love. 

Because it made his heart flutter, what Renjun said. It made his stomach flip in ways he’s never felt before when he realized this stranger was looking at the two of them as if they were dating. Not asking but assuming from their body language, from the way they looked at each other, that they had to be lovers. And wondering if anyone else thought that made Jeno smile, and he’s not too sure why. 

At some point - as the party quiets down, most attendees gone save for Jaemin’s close friends, sitting around talking quietly, a few drunkenly passed out on his sofa across from where Jeno’s sat - his worries stop making much sense, and slowly fade into darkness until he wakes up to an empty living room. It’s dead silent and dark, his head pounding as he peers around the room, lost and unsure if he was still drunk or now hungover. 

There’s light on the horizon when he peers out the balcony window, telling of how long he must have been passed out for. It was nowhere near restful, however, as he stands from the couch feeling like he hasn’t slept in years. His bed calls him from down the hall in his own apartment, but as he shuffles forward to make it out of Jaemin’s place, garbage clutters his ankles. 

He feels bad for everything that happened that night. Even if he was a little too hungover to remember everything, he still felt guilty, and figures since Jaemin’s birthday was already ruined by being outed against his will, he might as well save him the trouble of having to clean up the disaster that was his living room. 

The thing is, Jeno collects an armful of plastic cups and bottles, trying his best to keep his balance whilst carrying as many as possible - but when he makes his way to the kitchen, he hears a voice. Two voices, low and soft, unintelligible but clearly full of emotion. Cracking the sliding door to his kitchen, Jeno peers in, and the sight he catches is unexpected. He feels absolutely disgusting for staring - but, god, Jaemin is beautiful. 

Maybe he always thought so - maybe this was an awakening of some kind, Jeno’s not sure. His mind is still fuzzy with booze, feeling hazy as he peers into the dimly lit kitchen, a soft sigh coming from Jaemin’s lips as Renjun’s mouth bites at his exposed neck and chest, leaving tiny pink marks along the way. His skin is flushed, from alcohol or excitement - possibly both - and Renjun’s hands slide up his denim clad thighs, his gaze meeting Jaemin’s, filled with hunger as his palm presses against the front of his jeans. And his neck tilts back. He’s all beautiful lines and tanned skin, curving in pleasure as Renjun palms him through his pants, humming softly and watching him as intently as the younger, both reveling in the low moans he lets out until his thumb is fiddling with Jaemin’s zipper, and the sweat on the back of Jeno’s neck becomes unbearable. 

He can’t even gauge the reactions of the two when he bolts out of the room, dropping the cups and bottles he had collected directly on the floor with a loud clatter, only catching the two men’s heads whipping around to see what the noise was before Jeno was gone - out the door, and scrambling into his own apartment to hide himself from the world for the foreseeable future. 

Jeno can’t even think to face Jaemin the next day, after seeing what he saw. It’s not as if it would be all that embarrassing if it were anyone else - they were in a kitchen during a house party, after all, someone walking in on them was likely, almost inevitable. But Jeno’s not embarrassed by his actions that night - rather, not the ones that took place at Jaemin’s home, at least. 

There’s blurry shapes forming on Jeno’s ceiling as he lays in bed and stares up at the rough texture, nearly invisible in the darkness. He thinks to count the bumps he sees. To trace each indent in his crown moulding. Anything, he thinks to do, to distract him from what he wants to do. But Jeno’s too drunk to have that much willpower, and turns over into his stomach, sighing with the friction he feels. 

He never took the time to question his sexuality, really. In all honesty, Jeno never really had all that much interest in romance, and never really enjoyed the dating part of it all - only the sex. He had been with a few girls in his lifetime, none that stuck around for longer than a month or two, because he never felt the same things they always grew to feel after awhile of being with him. So when Jeno finds himself unexpectedly hard and piss drunk, laying in bed after Jaemin’s birthday party, he wonders why he feels guilty when he rolls his hips into his mattress. Because he’s never felt guilty for jerking off to any random girl - because he never actually wanted them for more than just the physical sensation. 

It’s not that Jeno was jealous because he wanted to touch Jaemin, he was envious, because he wanted to be the only one who did. And he comes in his pants with his face pressed into his pillow, wondering when the hell he ever fell in love with him. 

Still, Jeno finds himself sat on Jaemin’s sofa the next morning, dark circles under both of their eyes and grumbled small talk over strong coffee. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungover.” Jaemin groans, rubbing his temples. And, yes, he looks beautiful. He always did. 

It’s like Jeno’s heart has gone into overdrive and can’t slow down. Everything’s normal - they don’t mention it. They go back to watching tv and talking about random meaningless shit that Jeno forgets the second the conversation is over. And it feels normal, because he’s clearly had these thoughts about Jaemin for longer than he remembered. 

Because he is beautiful. He’s gorgeous - you didn’t have to be in love with him to know that. He slides down the sofa slowly until he slumped with his head leaning against Jeno’s arm, his eyes heavy on the television as they binge watch some drama Jaemin said he really wanted to watch. His eyelashes are dark against his round cheeks, lips unsmiling but curled up naturally as they always were. Perky and pink. And his eyes - they make Jeno’s pounding heart still for a moment when he looks up at him. Round and dark, a deep and endless abyss Jeno finds himself getting lost in the longer he stares, until he’s brought back down to earth with Jaemin’s melodic voice. “Listen - I know he’s my ex, but it was my birthday. Give me a break, alright?” He says with a bit of a self pitying laugh as his gaze returns back to the television. Jeno is grateful for this, because he stares, frozen, trying to understand what Jaemin could possibly be talking about. 

“What?” He says aloud, not really taking the time to think before he’s talking. Jaemin sits up with a quirked brow. 

“Renjun?” He explains, his tone confused as if Jeno should know what he was talking about already. “Have you never slept with an ex?”

“Oh…” Jeno mumbles in realization, the point Jaemin was making finally clicking, and his cheeks flush with how embarrassed he is. “No - I mean, yeah. I have.” 

“So why are you judging me?” Jaemin asks in a playful tone, but his eyes suggest he’s a little more serious than that. Jeno gulps. “Is it because he’s a dude? Because we didn’t even do anything after you caught us. But if you’re uncomfortable with me being…”

“No!” Jeno blurts, his cheeks burning hot the second he hears his own voice, octaves louder than the younger. “No - no. It’s fine. I don’t care that you’re gay. I wasn’t upset about that.” He attempts to explain, but the confusion in Jaemin’s face deepens. 

“You’re upset?” 

Jeno’s blood runs cold as he realizes what a pit he’s dug himself into, having only come to terms with his feelings for his friend hours ago, already blabbing his own secret the second he saw his face. Attempting to backpedal, Jeno takes a deep breath, and trains his eyes to the floor, hoping not looking at Jaemin will save him from further embarrassment. “Not upset.” He explains. “It’s just - the way you talked about Renjun. That whole thing seems to have hurt you a lot. And I just… I don’t know. I don’t want you to get hurt again.” Jeno states. 

While not untrue, it’s not necessarily what Jeno had been getting at. He figures, though, with how nervous he was still just on this topic, it was good he shifted the focus onto Renjun rather than his himself.

The smile Jaemin gives Jeno is slow and full of adoration, and his heart flutters back into his chest, pounding once again. “You’re sweet, Jen.” He says with a warm palm landing on Jeno’s knee, sending sparks up his thigh and directly to his dick. “You’re always so gentle with me.” Jaemin breathes, his voice barely above a whisper as his fingers rub against Jeno’s thigh. He bites his lip and tries to forget about it, but Jaemin’s smile has something behind it. He doesn’t speak again - he doesn’t add to his thoughts and he doesn’t pull away. In fact, his eyes flicker down Jeno’s face, his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he sighs softly. 

Jeno’s not sure where the courage comes from, but he can’t think to question it when Jaemin’s cheeks are warm between his palms, and his eyes are wide and Jeno would think to back away in a panic if Jaemin’s hands didn’t curl around his neck, pulling him down as his eyes fluttered closed. 

It’s impossible to say how they got here - how a hungover conversation about an awkward encounter has Jeno on his knees on the sofa, hovering over his neighbour with his tongue prying his lips open, the younger's hands sliding down his chest, to his hips, fingers hooked in his belt loops as he pulls him closer. 

Jeno’s mind is hazy going forward, unsure of where his hands are moving until he feels what’s underneath them - Jaemin’s hair and the back of his neck, his shoulders and his chest, feeling his heart race as he pulls the elder into his lap, fingers digging into his hips to sit him down. He can’t think to touch him - to do anything but exist but Jaemin seems to be okay with that, having a firm grip in his hair as he pulls him down to kiss him once more, panting wet into his mouth until it’s replaced by the most beautiful moan Jeno has ever heard as he shifts where he’s sitting and their hips meet. 

“Jesus…” Jeno mumbles under his breath, looking down at Jaemin’s pleasured face - at the bulge in his jeans rubbing against the bulge in Jaemin’s sweats, so vanilla but somehow the more erotic thing he had ever witnessed. That is until he meets Jaemin’s gaze again, his head thrown back and his eyes staring at him, glassy, through thick eyelashes. 

“Touch me?” He asks, in a whisper so low it barely passes his lips.

Jeno hears him, though. Loud and clear, Jeno knows what Jaemin wants as he shifts his weight so Jaemin is flat against the sofa they spent countless hours doing nothing on. His hands work before his mind does, pushing Jaemin’s shirt up to expose his tanned torso, calloused fingers dragging over the faint lines of muscles, dancing over his ribs, his thumbs rubbing over his nipples as his hips roll up into Jeno’s, reminding him of his request. 

He’s never touched another man like this before, but it doesn’t feel any more nerve wracking than any sexual experience in his past. It feels natural, almost. His hands shake and his breath does too as he exhales, pulling at the waistband of Jaemin’s sweats. Jaemin lays looking up at Jeno, fingers rubbing reassuring circles on his thighs where his hands rest, and his eyes slit closed with a low moan when Jeno wraps his fingers around him. 

It’s foreign, but not bad, especially with the sounds of encouragement Jaemin gives him, biting his lip as Jeno swipes his thumb over the head of his cock. The control he has over the younger feels so odd, and even more addicting. He repeats motions and gauges his reactions - forms his fingers into a loose circle and stroking him from base to tip, presses his thumb against the slit and - what Jaemin seems to love most - cups his hand around the head, rubbing it with his palm as Jaemin bucks up with a groan. 

He’s so gorgeous, like this. Moreso than when Jeno had just been spying, too. Perhaps he enjoys this more but Jeno thinks, maybe, the control he has over him - the whines that come from the back of his throat as Jeno squeezes the base of his cock, Jaemin’s hips rolling forward as if to ask for more friction - it all was something Jeno never knew he loved. Something Jeno never knew he wanted. 

His eyes are closed - dark lashes against his cheeks and his hips bucking out of place where Jeno’s hand is tight around his cock, his other shamefully sliding up his own thigh, the heel of his palm pressing against the front of his jeans to relieve some of the pressure. 

“I’m gonna come, Jen.” Jaemin spits, almost like it’s a quick warning - like he hadn’t expected it so soon. He watches Jeno’s hand move over himself - watches as he palms himself through his jeans with a bitten lip and tight brow - like the sight of Jeno was what was bringing him over the edge. “Fuck - oh my god.” Jaemin pants his body and voice tight. His nails dig welts into Jeno’s shoulders as he throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he gives into the sensations, his voice high with a quiet chant of Jeno’s name as he pulls himself over the edge, back curving and throat lax as he finally comes, coating Jeno’s fist and his own stomach. 

Jeno’s not sure what to do but stare. This body in front of him - Jaemin’s tanned skin damp with sweat, his slack jaw and slight, pleasured smile and his eyes. Dark and blown wide in ecstasy when they finally slit open, falling on Jeno’s face with a heavy breath before they close again, his hips rocking slowly as he rides himself down until he’s spent, and he collapses completely. 

Jaemin exhales with his eyelashes fluttering, the sweetest sigh ever as Jeno’s lips meet his sternum. “You’re so beautiful.” He says against the warm skin, Jaemin’s heartbeat rhythmic under his lips. “God, I adore you.”

“What?” Jaemin spits, an octave too loud from where he had been seemingly so calm. Jeno jumps a bit, looking up to meet Jaemin’s eyes again, this time blown wide in confusion. “Since when?” He asks. 

“I-“ Jeno starts, his voice coming out more panicked than intended. He swallows, sitting up from where he was hovered over the younger. “I don’t know. For awhile, I guess. I don’t think I knew I did, though.” 

“Oh…” Jaemin says, and panic rises in Jeno’s chest at the slight sound of disappointment. “I thought this was just… I thought you were just curious after seeing me and Renjun. That this was just, ya’know. For fun.”

“I’m sorry…” Jeno says, not entirely sure of what he really wants after all - of what they had just done or if it meant the same thing to him as it did to the younger. “Jesus, fuck. I’m an idiot aren’t I?” He sputters, sitting back fully when the realization that he misread the situation dawns on him. He covers his face as it flushes, utter humiliation flooding his already hungover sick stomach. “God - I’m so fucking stupid. Holy shit - I’m so sorry. Of course you don’t want me like that-“

“Jen.” Jaemin calls, sounding panicked himself. “Jen - hey, hey, no. Stop it. You’re not stupid.” He rambles, breathless as he tries his best to clarify his words, his fingers curling around Jeno’s wrists in an attempt to pull his hands down. “Jen look at me.” Jaemin says, his voice almost teary. 

But he’s smiling. That warm, kind smile Jeno realizes he must have fell in love with ages ago. That smile that had turned his whole world upside down - for the better. 

“Of course I want you like that.” Jaemin coos. “I want you every which way.” He says, his fingers cool against Jeno’s burning red cheeks, tender, as he always was with him. Tender words, touches, gazes - everything from Jaemin was always warm and soft and lovely. He was the definition of loveliness. Of course Jeno fell in love with him, who wouldn’t? 

Jaemin kisses him gently, as if their position wasn’t still so explicit. It’s chaste and sweet, and full of all the love Jeno held for him and then some. And he doesn’t need to say it for Jeno to understand but Jaemin smiles against his lips, his breath still catching up with him and his voice soft when he speaks. “I adore you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> my cc: https://curiouscat.qa/ilovetaem


End file.
